Enheduanna: The First Author - Wattys Winner 2021

17. Light In The Darkness

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Lagash had been deserted. The limestone walls, so beautiful from afar, were cracked and crumbling when we saw them up close. Even the maze of narrow and crooked alleys behind them were deserted. The buildings pressed close, their facades blank, chalky, windowless. Everything was made of white limestone, as if the people who lived here had never heard of colour.

We rode past heaps of limestone rubble, where a house had fallen, with faded scars of recent fires.

"This is the sad truth of our once proud city, great priestess. Hunger drives people to commit atrocious acts. Those who can have fled the city, what remains prowls the streets like wild beasts." Lugal-ushumgal said.

"And the lords?" I replied, "do they prowl the streets as well or are they hold up in their palaces behind these limestone walls?"

"Most of them fled to other cities. Those who remained have barely enough to feed their families and slaves for the remainder of this moon cycle."

Lugal-ushumgal led us to a place where all alleys came together, and a single path snaked towards a large mountain, looming over the city. "In the mountain, you will find our temple. I can take you to the end of the road. But from there on it is sacred ground which only the priestesses may enter."

"Why is that?" Dingira asked before getting a warning glare from Idal. "What? We all may enter the Ziggurat in Ur. Why is a mountain any different?"

"Because as you know, Ningishzida is a part of the Netherworld: he is the chair-bearer who guides kings and queens on their journey to the realm of Ereshkigal. That mountain is the gateway to the realm of the dead." Lugal-ushumgal explained.

Idal halted his horse instantly, it's neighing forcing us all to halt and witness the shocked expression writen upon his otherwise stoic face. The muscles that lined his arms tightened as he pulled back the reins, ash curls sweeping wildly when he shook his head. "I'm not going in there."

Lugal-ushumgal smiled knowingly. "Don't worry, our temple for Ningishzida only stands at its entrance. In order to truly enter the Netherworld, one would have to travel to the centre of the mountain."

At the end of the road, we left the horses with Lugal-ushumgal, who proceeded to press some slag beads and lapis jewels in the hands of Idal and Dingira. "An offering, for good luck." He said.

As we climbed the mountain, the true scale of the drought became apparent. The wind picked up around us, caring the smell of sulphur and ash from the blackened fields. The earth was cracked all throughout, withered crops hiding beneath swarms of crickets.

"Is this what you saw in your vision?" Idal whispered. "Kituzda told me you had a vision of such a famine during the sacred marriage. She said you awoke screaming, that's how much it had frightened you."

Dingira gasped, "Did Nanna show you this—this horrible scene."

"I'm not sure. What I saw was famine and drought, but I didn't see Lagash. Although I did see a city." I said, trying to remember the vision I had during the sacred wedding. It all went so fast, it seemed more like a blur in my memory.

The entrance of the temple was a pointed arch chiselled out of the flesh coloured stone and resembled a gigantic vulva. It was almost as if the earth itself gave breath to whoever would exit this temple, making it even more ominous to enter it. There were no torches to light the way, and the gathering clouds in the sky blocked out what little sunlight there was.

Dingira yelped as she stepped into a puddle of—something clinging onto my arm after the incident. "We should not linger here any longer than necessary. I dislike the very smell of this place."